


abstractions in the void

by Anonymous



Series: some electric holy yearning [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28929102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A series of short fics taking place in thesome electric holy yearning. A mixture of concept fics and drabbles and all manner of things, each mostly unedited and too short to be posted to AO3 independently. Mostly Technophil with smatterings of SBI gen content.Tags will be updated as new chapters are posted. Title from "Say Yes To Life" by Gang of Youths.
Relationships: Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: some electric holy yearning [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096256
Comments: 18
Kudos: 219





	1. turn your ghosts into mine

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the first chapter from "Naked The Night Falls" by The Crane Wives.
> 
> Chapter Summary: Philza and Techno in the aftermath of 11/16.  
> Chapter content warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, implied suicidal ideation, discussions of canonical character death.

It was _disconcerting_ , watching Phil in the aftermath. He’d popped up at Techno’s side like he never left, fully-armored and looking ready for a few more withers. And then Techno had walked away from the scene, and Phil had trailed along behind him, laughing and chatting and catching up with what Techno had been up to since they last saw each other. As if they’d just reunited by chance in some random tavern.

As if he hadn’t just cut down his oldest son with his own sword in front of a crowd of people while his youngest screamed. As if he wasn’t wearing armor he’d stolen off corpses amid the battlefield and wasn’t holding the sword Techno had seen Wilbur wield earlier that day.

Techno had let him get away with it, of course. There was never any point in trying to get Phil to talk when he didn’t want to. Even when they’d been closer, Phil would clamp down so fast Techno would be left dizzied in the aftermath. So he waited. Kept Phil close and kept an eye on him while waiting for the guillotine blade to fall.

And here was the _thunk_ — at some ungodly hour of the night, the sound of splashing echoing down the blackstone halls of Techno’s underground base. When Techno had gone to look, he’d found Phil kneeling at the edge of the in-ground tub, furiously attempting to scrub the blood out of the clothes he’d been wearing earlier that day.

He didn’t react when Techno stepped into the room, nor did he so much as twitch when Techno called his name. He only stopped when Techno knelt beside him and placed a hand on his back. Still, his gaze stayed focused on the water, where he gripped his haori in shaking hands.

“Phil?” Techno called again, a question and an invitation at once. Phil didn’t respond. Techno waited.

Finally Phil heaved a shuddering breath and spoke. “If I told you right now to kill me,” he began, “would you?” Techno tensed immediately, pulling his hand off Phil’s back without thinking, but Phil didn’t even seem to notice. “If I begged you? Said I couldn’t live with what I’ve done today, that there wasn’t any other option, and everyone wants you to do it, anyway? That Tommy—”

“Tommy doesn’t want you _dead_ ,” Techno sputtered, grabbing Phil by the shoulders and pulling him around to face Techno properly. “He _needs_ you. Especially now. I’m not going to kill you, Phil, you need to calm down.”

“Wil begged me,” Phil confessed in a whisper, gaze fixed on Techno’s face. “And I just fuckin’ did it. I…” He choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I hardly even hesitated.”

Techno fell silent, his grip on Phil’s shoulders slackening. What the fuck do you even _say_ to that? He finally managed, “That’s...that’s different.”

Phil laughed again, more harshly this time, and pulled back away from Techno. “Like hell it is,” he spit, “you just—” Techno reached forward again, dragging Phil into an embrace. 

Phil struggled, trying to pull away again, but Techno held fast until he finally slumped in defeat. “It _is_ ,” he insisted once Phil stopped fighting, “because you’re _better_ than me. I’m too selfish to let you go somewhere I can’t reach you, even if that’s what you want. I want to keep you here.”

“You’re a better person than I’ll ever be,” Phil whispered, and then turned his head to hide in Techno’s shoulder. Techno could barely tell when Phil started to cry, aside from the barely-there shake of his shoulders in Techno’s arms, but he held him a bit closer anyway.


	2. hold your hand to that goodnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Wilbur and Techno, the night before 11/16.  
> Content Warnings: Character smoking, blink-and-you-miss-it self-injury, discussion of a planned suicide/canonical character death. Implied child abuse/death with regard to Techno's backstory.

The day Manberg falls, the sheer volume of eleven and a half stacks of TNT rings in Techno’s ears for hours afterwards. A single discordant note, like an instrument played out of tune.

* * *

Techno has a nasty habit of failing to sleep the night before important battles. He can’t rest until he’s absolutely sure he’s prepared. He checks all of his supplies fifteen times, paces every route he can reach without being attacked and memorizes all the maps he can until he sees them when he closes his eyes.

Phil used to be able to lure him away from it. But Phil isn’t here, and they all fall into bad habits when he’s not around.

Including, apparently, Wilbur. Techno can smell those damn cigarettes again the second he descends the stairs into Pogtopia, He’s _told_ Wilbur not to smoke them inside the ravine. At least it gives him something else to think about as he stalks the rest of the way down the stairs, searching for Wilbur by the dim light of the torches.

He finds him sitting on the ground not far from the Nether portal, curled around his guitar without actually playing it. Techno reaches down and snatches the cigarette from between his fingers before he can react.

Wilbur jumps and stares up at Techno, wide-eyed and ashamed like a child caught with one hand in the cookie jar. Techno stubs the cigarette out with his thumb and crushes it, and Wilbur’s eyes only get wider.

“What have I told you about these things?” Techno asks. Wilbur doesn’t reply — he just stares. “The smell sticks to _everything_ , and Tommy doesn’t need to be breathing this stuff, anyway. Take it outside if you need one that bad.”

“Did you just put that out with your hand?” Wilbur asks faintly.

“Don’t change the subject,” Techno responds, impatient. Wilbur huffs.

He glares up at Techno, looking awfully like he used to when he’d fuck up a sparring match as a teenager. “C’mon,” he wheedles, “give me a pass, Technoblade. Just this one last time.” 

_One last time_. Techno falls silent. It’s not as though he wasn’t _aware_ that — but they don’t talk about it. It’s the closest either of them have come to mentioning it.

The miasma hanging in the air, thicker than the cigarette smoke: the knowledge that Wilbur intends to go down with his ship tomorrow.

And Techno —

Techno has seen dead men walking before. It’s all in the eyes — the blank stares of the children at the orphanage as he put his knife to their throat, opponents on the battlefield as his axe freed them from a war they knew they’d never win.

And in Wilbur, bleeding and defeated, when Tommy had led Techno into the dirt cave that would become their home.

—And Techno knew that he wouldn’t be able to save Wilbur. He wasn’t Phil, these weren’t his kids. He couldn’t coddle them and kiss their injuries better and point them to a better way out. That was why he and Phil had parted ways in the first place. All Techno could do now was make sure Wilbur accomplished what he wanted to before he went out. 

That was a kind of mercy too, right?

He finds himself on the ground next to Wilbur, back against the wall. Wilbur has set his guitar aside in favor of leaning into Techno’s side. “I don’t sleep much anymore,” he admits quietly. “Tell me a bedtime story? Like you used to?”

Techno glances sideways at him. “What kind of story?”

“Maybe the one about the boy who flew too close to the sun,” Wilbur offers, gaze fixed on the middle distance. “Or the one who lost his love because he couldn’t help but look back.”

Techno hums. “Or Odysseus, returned home triumphant to clear out the people who have stolen into his home in his absence.”

“I don’t want your pity, Technoblade,” Wilbur mumbles. 

Techno lets out a slow breath. “Wil?” Wilbur hums. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you needed.”

“Oh, don’t fret about that,” Wilbur responds. “Phil wouldn’t’ve been able to save me either.” 

Techno wraps an arm around Wilbur, pulling him close like he’s a kid again. Wilbur goes willingly, closing his eyes as he leans his head against Techno.


	3. honey and hot milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Fluff fic taking place in the space between AE and Dream SMP. Techno helps Phil with the kids for a while, mostly against his will.  
> Chapter Warnings: Philza-typical brief, joking mention of child injury.

Phil’s bee farm is broken again.

Apparently it breaks once a week or so — Phil complains about it constantly when Techno comes by, but he’s either never figured out how to fix it permanently or never had the time. Which is what brings them to their current situation: Techno and Phil staring down the farm as Tommy shifts and babbles in Phil’s arms.

Phil gives the farm a glare like it’s offended him personally. “Ugh, lemme get in there to figure out what’s happening. Hold this for a second.” Techno takes what he’s handed without thinking, still trying to guess at what could have gone wrong with the farm from the outside. It’s only when a tiny hand smacks his cheek that he realizes he’s been entrusted with Tommy.

He freezes instantly. “Wait, wait, Phil, come back!” he protests, but Phil’s already on the roof of the farm.

Mercifully, he turns around anyway. “What?” he asks.

“You—” Techno glances frantically between Tommy and Phil. “I can’t—I’m gonna _break_ him!”

Phil offers a lazy shrug. “Oh, that’s alright, kids heal fast.”

“Wha— _Phil!_ ”

Phil just laughs at him. “You’re not gonna break him, silly,” he says, sounding unfairly fond for the situation. “It’ll be fine. Just don’t drop him.” And then he’s gone into the farm, letting the door fall shut behind him. 

Techno sighs and looks back down at Tommy, who stares blankly up at him. He’s too nervous to move or shift Tommy’s position in his arms, so he’s just going to have to stand there until Phil comes to rescue him. “Hullo,” he greets Tommy.

Tommy babbles something incoherent at him. Obviously, he’s not thrilled with this situation either.

“Yeah, I know,” Techno tells him. “We just gotta deal with it until Phil comes back. I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

Tommy grins widely at him and babbles something else. Then he reaches a hand up, closes it around Techno’s earring, and _tugs_.

“Oh, please don’t do that,” Techno says miserably.

But his pleas go unheard. Tommy just keeps pulling on the earring, giggling all the while. He can’t put enough force into it that it’ll actually cause damage, but it’s definitely not _fun_. Why would Phil do this to Techno?

Finally, _finally_ the machine fires back up again, the low hum of redstone connecting and beginning to work its magic. Phil pops back up from the door in the roof and grins triumphantly down at Techno. “Got it!” he calls.

“That’s great, Phil,” Techno responds, trying and failing to muster up any amount of enthusiasm. Tommy gives his earring a particularly hard tug, and he winces.

“Oh!” Phil laughs as he catches sight of what’s happening. He climbs down from the roof, wiping redstone dust off his hands onto his haori, and back over to Techno, detangling Tommy’s hand from his earring with expert skill. “Tommy, we don’t pull,” he chastises.

He finally takes Tommy from Techno’s arms. Techno feels himself deflate, all the nervous energy draining out of him at once. Tommy, for his part, resorts to pulling on Phil’s hair instead. Phil gives Techno an amused look, moving Tommy’s hand away again. “This is his new favorite game,” he says dryly. “If you couldn’t tell.”

Techno opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by Phil’s older kid. “Phil,” Wilbur calls, hanging halfway out the back door, “I think the biscuits are done!” His voice is pitched slightly in what sounds like panic, and Techno has to glance at Phil to tell if it’s just normal Wilbur levels of anxiety or if the biscuits are on fire.

“He’s scared of the oven,” Phil informs Techno in a low voice, then turns back to Wilbur. “I’m coming! Just a sec!” He hurries back to the house, leaving Techno by the bee farm.

And without the honey he’d come out here to collect in the first place. Techno gathers a couple bottles of it from the newly-working machine, and then trails after Phil.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a link to the discord server I frequent in the first fic of the series -- come say hi to me there! I love chatting about these boys.


End file.
